Follow the bouncing ball
by Wicketforever
Summary: This story takes place after House's stay at Mayfield. I have no idea where this is going but let me know what you think.
1. Chapter 1

House sat on the couch in his living room bouncing the red and white ball which had once occupied a space on the desk in his office gingerly against the wall. It had been three days since his return from Mayfield and Wilson had been kind enough to retrieve this treasure as well as a few others from the diagnostics department sort of as a good will gesture welcoming him back.

A sigh escaped his lips as House thought of the hospital and what it must be like now in his absence. Definitely a lot quieter with fewer complaints from patients he thought to himself. Not that he was surprised of course. Cuddy had practically blamed him on numerous occasions for these situations but what could he say? Sometimes the truth hurts.

In the midst of these thoughts the sound of the answering machine distracted House from bouncing the ball which caused the beloved object to fall to the floor half way between the wall and the couch. House had no doubt surrounding the identity of the mystery caller on the line. It was a well known fact that a certain Oncologist he knew couldn't go a day without proving himself as an enabler…

_House, pick up I know your there._

Despite his better judgment House suddenly felt the urge to pick up the phone but then a thought struck him…since when have I ever willingly answered a call? If I started now it might look suspicious to Jimmy.

There was a pause as Wilson listened for a response he knew would never come before continuing to leave a message on the machine with a smirk spread across his lips.

_By the silence on the line I can only assume that either A…your not home. B…you are home but to busy unpacking to even have noticed that your machine is no longer broken or C…your there sitting on the couch listening to me rant and rave like a lunatic with absolutely no intention of picking up the phone as a way of getting back to normal. (Sigh) In any case, welcome back House…I'll see you tomorrow…click_

As the line went dead and silence filled the room once again, House couldn't help but smirk to himself while retrieving the red and white ball from where it had rolled underneath the coffee table and continuing to bounce.

_He knows me so well._

(What do you think? I have absolutely no idea where this is going but I thought I'd give it a shot. As always thank you for reviewing and more to come soon. Wicket forever.)


	2. chapter 2

When he had gotten bored with playing with his toys, House pushed himself

off of the couch with the aid of the wooden cane which had come to mean a

great deal to him over the years and headed over to the piano. Sitting down

at the bench the emotionally wounded and morally bankrupt man formerly

of medicine, reached down to caress all 48 keys with the lightest touch

while looking around at his surroundings. He was reminded of Eve, the rape

victim who insisted he treat her nearly four years ago. Looking back on that

moment in his life now, it surprised House how easy it had been to talk with

her once they both let their guard down and why wouldn't it be? After all,

they had been trapped in a room together at the time.

_That's what life is. it's a series of rooms and who we get stuck in those rooms with adds up to what our lives are._

House thought about this for awhile as he looked around the apartment.

He thought about all the other people he had been stuck in a room with at

one point or another and how some how each one of these characters had

made a difference in his life somehow no matter how insignificant they may

have appeared at the time.

Of course, over the past six months, House had done nothing but sit in a

room and stare at the ceiling as the voices of Amber and Kutner continued

to mock him from a far. Thankfully, they hadn't shown their faces for a

while which made House happy. Unfortunately, there was one woman who

he just couldn't get out of his head. Cuddy's face flashed through his mind

at that moment which caused House to flinch while getting up from the

piano bench and begin pacing the floor one haggard step at a time.

_You want to kiss me don't you. _

_I always want to kiss you._

Those words had been said during the time she had helped him detox,

during the time they slept together, during the time that took place merely as

a figment of his imagination as a result of some underlying illness which

had given him the most wonderful night of passion that House had ever

known…if only it had been real.

The fact that House was now able to distinguish between reality and

hallucination or delusion was a very good thing according to his psychiatrist

but it didn't feel that way to the man himself. True, it was nice not living in

a world surrounded by the images of Wilson's dead girlfriend or his former

employee who only served as a reminder of the guilt and shame plaguing

him for months but it had been nice to have someone there to talk to.

_But that's the thing…they were never there. They were all in my head as a distortion between reality and fantasy. Serving as a clue into my already cracked mental state. _

The same mental state that had cast a shadow of hope into his life for a brief moment into a world where he could be happy, could live without pain and

things could be different for him. That's how going into Mayfield had

helped House. After everything that had happened in that place and

everything that had happened to him during his stay there one thing had

finally become clear.

_Your afraid to be happy._

Those words echoed in his mind as House let out a sigh and stopped pacing

long enough to block out the memory from going any further into detail.

That was the problem, every time House let his mind drift and allow himself

to think freely he always saw her face staring back at him with the same

piercing stare she always had before.


	3. Chapter 3

There were just too many thoughts running through his mind to even begin to think about staying at the apartment. For the past three days it seemed like all House had done was wallow in the depths of his own self pity while trying to figure out what it was that had brought him here in the first place and he had had enough of that routine in Mayfield. So, today was the day he would break free of his cocoon and venture out into the land of the living and enjoy himself after six months and three days of isolation.

Walking down the street as the sun hit his face and a slight fall breeze came at him from the side, House finally felt as though he were heading in theright direction towards a full recovery and getting back to normal or as normal as a life without alcohol, pain pills and hallucinations could ever be for him.

As House entered through the main entrance to the park and down the long dirt path which would lead to a picnic table located next to a lake which House had visited on numerous occasions for the simple task of sitting, watching and imagining the life of his dreams. Only this time, House came to this place merely to reflect on the past and begin to get back to the way things used to be before.

What if things couldn't go back to the way things were before? What they never got back to normal? Things had never been that way for the diagnostician but that wasn't the point now. All that mattered was getting back to his version of normalcy and that was all House wanted. Wasn't it? A sigh escaped his lips at this point in the conversation with his subconcious as House thought about all of last year's events.

He thought about how his friendship with Wilson had disintegrated during the summer and then on the eve of his father's funeral seemed to have gotten better. He thought about the methadone treatment, he thought about Cuddy and the kiss they shared after she had lost Joy. At least that night was real. That was something he could always rely on and no hallucintation could take it away from him…then House thought about Kutner.

The loss of his employee to suicide hung in the air during everyday House had spent at Mayfield and even sometime before that. Thinking about it now was still hard to do and why wouldn't it be? They had worked together for two years and even during the alleged hiring and firing process Kutner had always been one of the very few candidates applying for a position on his staff that House actually found interesting and even liked.

A smirk spread across his face at that moment as House thought back to the time when he initally fired Kutner as number six for a reason he couldn't remember and then twenty minutes that same doctor came back with the six turned upside down.

_I fired you_

_No you didn't._

_Yes I did. Your number six_

_No I'm not. I'm number nine._

At the time, House had thought this was a rediciulous way to get attention from a potential employeer but then that was before Kutner came up with an idea that could actually save their patient.

_Could be another kind of fat. Fat embolism_

_I like you number nine._

Closing his eyes at this memory House was getting sick and tired of becoming emotionalv exhausted everytime something from before flooded into his mind. When that had happened in the past there was always his trusty bottle of pills to get him through it without feeling anything even close to an emotion but now, those days were long gone.

Getting up from the bench, House limped further through the park which was thankfully empty except for a few others who were fortunately too caught up in their own conversations to even notice the presence of a lone cripple making his way slowly past them on his way to god knows where.

All except one couple who had made themselves comfortable on a picnic blanket located only a few feet away from where House was standing. Chase and Cameron had come to the park in attempt to get away from the hospital long enough to enjoy their lunch together on this beautiful day in September.

"Oh my god."

The surprise in her husband's voice distracted Cameron from her salad long enough to see the silouhette of her former boss and head of diagnostic medicine making his way past them seemingly unaware of the fact that they were even there.

"I wasn't aware he had even come back yet."

"(sigh) Is that a surprise to you? He obviously wants to make this is a slow transition. Which means we should let him-"

"House!."

Before Chase could finish this statement he was interrupted by the sight and sound of Cameron calling House over to where they had been sitting despite his best efforts to talk her out of it. As the diagnostician limped over to them both doctors took note of the fact that his gate was more pronounced then usual, his head had been shaved and his eyes looked brighter then before he was…away.

They had expected something other then the silence that followed his arrival into their private luncheon space but all House did was stand there watching them curously and suspicously until finally…he spoke.

"You rang?"

"We didn't know you were back. When did you get in?"

"Three days ago."

"Well, welcome home."

Again with the cheerfulness. What was it that made Cameron so eager to sugar coat everything with kittens and moonbeams? That was something that he never could figure out. Gazing over to Chase who had been cowering in his lunch for the duration of this entire conversation House had to fight the urge to call him a Wombat.

"Hey Chase…cat got your tongue?"

Looking up from the now empty container which had once been filled with food, Chase extended his hand and House accepted the gesture hesitantly.

"Good to see you again House."

"Uh…yeah, you too."

They could see the distance in his eyes as House continued to stand there akwardly after shaking Chase's hand and they thought it would a good idea to offer him a chance to get off his feet for a bit.

"Would you like to sit down? Maybe have some lunch? We've got plenty to go around."

At this question, House immediately shook his head while absent mindedly rubbing the damaged right thigh muscle and trying to think of a way out of this.

"Ah, no thanks. Not Hungry. Besides, if I sit down I might not get up."

"Alright. Maybe some other time then."

"Yeah."

Rolling his eyes at this comment, House turned his back to Chase and Cameron and limped away without any regard for them or their invitation to stay and catch up. He didn't care for any of it. Right now, he just wanted to go home and think things over.


	4. Chapter 4

When he got home, a sigh of relief escaped him as House entered his small but lavish apartment and leaned heavily against the door thinking about his day in the park, what he had seen and…who he had seen. It shouldn't have surprised the diagnostician that someone from the hospital would be there but why did it have to be two of the most curious and overly protective people he had ever met?

Actually Chase wasn't so bad. House had actually come to like and respect him as a doctor during the time they had worked together and even after that. However, Cameron was a different story. It seemed like she was always looking for her next charity case, the next person she could fix and bring back to life by way of a soft heart and an endless stream of meaningless dribble that did absolutely no good what so ever.

House couldn't really blame Cameron for any of this. After what happened to her husband it was only natural for her to want to be there to save someone when they needed it especially considering how she was unable to do so before. She married a man who was dying of a fatal illness knowing too well it would never last a month and yet she agreed to it anyway. She loved him and it showed in that decision.

House had to admit that he was happy that Cameron had fallen in love again. He knew it had taken her a long time to get over losing her husband and now that she had married Chase those days could be put in the past forever giving them both a chance a true love and happiness.

The only thing that saddened House was the fact that while two of his colleagues had found love in their lives nothing like that had come in to his life for over a decade. True, he and Cuddy had shared a night of passion last year after she had lost Joy but it was just a kiss and the night they had actually spent together turned out to be all a figment of his imagination that never took place and probably never would.

_I was wondering if we should move in together._

_Your fired_

The pure anger and resentment which lingered on her lips as these words were said still stuck with House even after all these months away from the hospital and away from Cuddy. He wanted to forget that discussion had ever taken place because it served as only another reminder of the hallucinations and the gradual fall from reality he had taken over a very short period of time.

At this point the sound of the answering machine distracted House from his thoughts long enough for him to limp over to the couch have a seat being sure not to put too much pressure on his leg and press play, if only to get the beeping to stop permanently.

Assuming it was Wilson again, House leaned back against the comfort of the sofa and closed his eyes looking forward to hearing whatever it was the Oncologist wanted to share over the phone.

_House, its me…._

There was only one "it's me" he could have handled hearing from and this certainly wasn't it. The sound of Cuddy's voice over the line made House cringe as he continued to listen uneasily to the message the Dean of Medicine had left for him.

_(Sigh) I know its been a long since we've talked. I just wanted to tell you how much I've….missed you and how everyone here at the hospital is looking forward to having you back. _

Suddenly House could hear Cuddy mumble to herself underneath her breath and unfortunately the machine had caught every word as clear as a bell.

_This is stupid. I know you've been back for days and here I am acting like your still in that…that place. (sigh) I'm coming over we have to talk._

And Just like that the line went dead which completely threw House off guard as he scrambled to his feet and tried to calm himself down. When had she called? Why hadn't he been there to talk her out of coming over? Why had he gone to the park? In the middle of this panic attack a knock came upon the door and House knew exactly who it was.


	5. Chapter 5

House knew he couldn't just leave Cuddy standing in the hallway forever. It was just that for the first time in his life he had no idea what to do or what to say. Of course he wanted to see how she was and most importantly why she had interrupted his home coming but couldn't it have waited until he was ready to go back to work?

Opening the door House suddenly felt as though he were on display while meeting the gaze of Lisa Cuddy, a woman who could level you with her eyes without saying anything at all. As she stood there taking in the presence of her friend, Cuddy was thankful to see that apart from a few subtle differences House hadn't changed at all.

"Hi."

"Hello."

There was an awkward silence following this as both parties tried to find the right words to unleash everything that needed to be said. Over the past six months, when she wasn't working or looking after Rachel all Cuddy could do was think about House and how he was holding up in Mayfield. One of her biggest regrets was not going to see him sooner during his stay there but it was just too hard.

"Uh…nice hair cut."

At this comment, House smirked to himself while running a hand through his hair which had been trimmed down to a mere shadow of its former self and tossed his head to the side.

"Well, you know when in Rome do as the Romans."

"It looks good."

"Uh…Thanks."

This wasn't right. Where was the familiar banter they had come to know so well? Where was the tension? Where was the sarcasm? As she looked into his eyes and put a hand on his shoulder, Cuddy wondered if things would ever be the same between her and House or would they continue to grow apart.

"Your welcome."

"So…why are you here?"

This question shouldn't have surprised Cuddy. After all, she had come over out of the blue without so much as a conversation over the phone with the man who she was supposed to be meeting. Even though she had left a message the Dean of Medicine had no idea if House would even be home…but, fortunately he was.

"Are you ready to go back to work?"

That wasn't the only reason but what the heck? Might as well go with the easiest question first.

"You fired me remember?"

"Yes, I did but at the time I was angry and wasn't thinking straight."

"That makes two of us."

_Please don't say your sorry._ House thought to himself, the last thing he wanted in the world was to hear another person tell him they were sorry for what happened. Unfortunately, he knew Cuddy too well for her not to be racked with guilt.

"I know and that's another reason why I'm here."

House cringed at the sound of these words. One of the reasons he hadn't wanted anyone at the hospital to visit him at Mayfield or here while he was busy getting himself acclimated to the life he had left behind was because House couldn't stand pity or being seeing as vulnerable in the eyes of his friends and colleagues.

"House, are you alright?"

"(sigh) I wasn't for awhile but now that I'm back here…I…I think things are getting there."

This was an uncharacteristic response, such honesty from House was rare but then that was to be expected after his stay in Mayfield. Cuddy was very thankful that he had felt comfortable enough with her to be open about how he was feeling.

"I'm happy for you House."

Nodding his head in gratitude for this statement, House left the front door open as an invite for Cuddy to enter his abode and join him on the couch as the diagnostician made himself comfortable and waited for her to join him where he was now seated.

"Have a seat."

It had been awhile since they had talked and yet once they were seated next to each other on the couch the awkwardness melted away and they were left with something that hadn't been there since college. Something that could only be described as simple, honest and pure…truth.

House closed his eyes in an effort to make the thoughts running through his head slow down for a few moments at least while he tried to focus his attention the woman sitting before him. Ironic, isn't it? House had spent the last six months trying to avoid thinking about Cuddy, trying to get her face out of his head and now, here she was sitting next to him without a clue of what to say.

_This is a mistake. I shouldn't be here. Its obvious he wants to be left…._

"It's good to see you Cuddy."

_Alone_

This comment surprised Cuddy as she gently squeezed House's hand as an attempt to let him know that he was not alone and that she was there.

"You too."

The sudden feeling of her hand in his made House feel at ease and yet strangely uncomfortable. How could he tell if this were real or not? How could he break himself away from the delusion that had been centered around this woman and what had brought him down to his lowest point which ultimately lead to a break?

Of course, rationally he knew this was not a delusion. He knew that Cuddy was really there, sitting beside him squeezing his hand but still, something didn't feel right. House hated to think that the only reason Cuddy was there was out of guilt but then again no matter what the reason, in actuality, what mattered most was the fact that…she was _really _there and it wasn't all in his head.

"(sigh) About going back to work…"

"Yes?"

"Its probably not a good idea."

"Why not?"

It was an honest question but still, Cuddy felt as though she had just asked him why the sky is blue or why grass is green. It should be obvious to anyone why House didn't want to go back to work but still, in her own selfish way, Cuddy didn't care. She just wanted things to go back to normal.

House wanted the exact same thing, it was taking him a little longer then expected to feel comfortable with the idea of running a department again especially, considering what had happened.

"1. My license is still suspended and 2. Foreman's been after my job for years…who am I to take it away from him?"


	6. Chapter 6

After Cuddy left, House went to his bedroom to lye down for awhile while propping his leg up on a pillow for some extra support. The idea of not coming back to the hospital hadn't occurred to him before but now, it seemed to be the only thing that made sense. He couldn't very well continue practicing medicine with his license still hanging up in the air and he couldn't see himself coming back to work when he was still unsure of himself as a diagnostician.

That had never happened before. House had always been the one that people went to for answers when other doctors couldn't figure out what was going on with a patient and now, after everything, the one time an answer really mattered on a personnel level, House didn't have it. There would be no light at the end of the tunnel, no epiphany that would solve everything in a matter of minutes. This time, House was just…lost.

During his stay at Mayfield, the doctors in charge of his case had warned House that this may happen after he was released but they reassured him that it would pass and that in time, things would get better and in fact, his physical condition had some what improved. House no longer popped pain pills, he no longer had hallucinations of Amber or Kutner haunting him every hour of the day and his leg pain had diminished to a level that was merely intolerable at times even without the aid of narcotics.

However, he still had insomnia and night mares which would cause him to wake up almost every night from what should have been a peaceful slumber, and pace back and forth across the living room floor in an attempt to figure out what the hell was going on…finally, one night House had had enough and decided to do what should have been done a long time ago.

Limping over to the telephone, House stared at it for a few minutes trying to decide who to call. He could always call his shrink but, at this time of night the guy would probably just tell him to take a sleeping pill and call back in the morning besides, if House wanted to be psychoanalyzed he'd rather hear it from a certain Oncologist who had been there from the very beginning. This in a mind, a smile spread across House's lips as he picked up the phone and dialed Wilson's number.

*************************************************************

Meanwhile, Wilson had just gotten home from the hospital after dealing with a very complicated patient. He had been called into help out with a case that the diagnostics team were having a hard time solving. They had exhausted all possible causes and even a few that were a long shot. Foreman was good but he wasn't good enough to handle this on his own while trying to guide and direct three other people.

After getting himself a beer from the refrigerator, Wilson made himself comfortable in the living room and sighed while easing into the quite of the room. Unfortunately, this peace didn't last long as the sound of a ringing telephone diverted him from any hope of going along with the plan of falling asleep right where he sat, at least for the time being.

"Hello?"

There was silence on the line as Wilson cursed himself for not checking the caller id before pressing send. Then again, he knew there was only one person who would call at this hour and thankfully he didn't have to wait long to be proven right.

"Wilson…"

The urgency in his House's voice was enough to drain all the exhaustion out of Wilson's mind and body as he sat up on the couch and prepared himself for the conversation ahead.

"House?"

"I need your help."

"Okay. Go ahead."

Thankful to not have to go through an endless steam of lectures and platitudes this time, House began to explain to Wilson what's been going on over the past few days since his return from Mayfield. Usually, the thought of opening up and being honest about this would have been the last thing House would have done but he had no other choice. It was either that or go it alone and he had already had enough of that over the past six months.

"I think I've lost it."

"What?"

"My rational mind. Somehow, down the line. I don't know if it was from my crappy childhood, pain pills, the infarction or my mental break but…"

"You've reached a point where you don't trust yourself and it scares the hell out of you."

House wanted to deflect that statement. Wanted to deny that it was even remotely true but deep down, he knew he couldn't ignore the truth when it was staring him right in the face in the form of James Wilson, boy wonder oncologist and loyal friend.

"Yeah. So what do I do about it?"

"You... don't give up."

Easier said then done. House thought to himself as the two continued to talk until the sun came up over Princeton, New Jersey the next morning.


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning, House woke up early and limped into the bathroom to start getting ready for the day. Normally, he would have stayed in bed for at least another three or four hours but the conversation he had with Wilson last night sparked something within him that just couldn't be ignored.

_You…don't give up._

Those words kept playing themselves over and over in House's head as the diagnostician busied himself with chores and household activities in an attempt to calm himself down. In the past he had turned to drugs and alcohol to get him through situations like this but that wouldn't work this time. Especially, considering the fact that he had been clean and sober for over six months…

After doing a load of laundry, dishes and vacuuming the rug House had finally had enough of the Martha Stuart gig and headed over to the piano for a brief bought of normalcy in a time of confusion and uncertainty.

As he started to play a simple jazz scale House let his mind wander to a time where things made sense and he was still working at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Thinking about the hospital now, in its purest form without him there made the diagnostician sigh as he absent mindedly rubbed his leg and continued to play only this time, instead of a jazz scale, a haunting melody filled the air.

It was a simple question, was he ready to go back to work? And yet somehow the answer to this eluded House completely. Then suddenly, a thought struck him as House stopped playing in mid decrescendo while continuing to stare thoughtfully into space.

"I don't belong there anymore."

This thought in mind, House got up from the piano bench and over to his computer which was located only a few feet away.

Now, that he was on his way to finding the answer, it was time do research.


	8. Chapter 8

Later that day, House had called Wilson over to let him in on his plans and the minute the Oncologist walked through the door he immediately noticed the swept floors, spotless kitchen and dusted living room all of which were nothing compared to the shine on the piano which included each of the individual black and white keys.

"You…cleaned?"

"Yeah well, I've spent the last six months cleaning the spiders out of my own attic I didn't need more of that back here."

There was a sadness in his voice as this was said while House turned to the couch and made himself comfortable while gesturing for Wilson to follow suit. As he made his way over to the sofa, James realized this had been the first time he had seen his friend since Mayfield. True, they had spoken to each other on the phone numerous times and the Oncologist would have come by sooner but…well, the reason doesn't really matter now does it? After all, he was here now.

"So, how you doing?"

"Better…"

"Good."

"…Cuddy dropped by the other day."

Hearing this sent chills up Wilson's spine as he waited for House to continue his train of thought. Normally, he would have interjected with some theory or another on the reason behind this but now was not the time.

"What did she say?"

"She offered me my job back…well, technically she only apologized for firing me but I think that pretty much implies the latter."

"And?"

"I turned it down."

Wilson wasn't surprised by this, in fact, on some level he had been expecting it from the beginning. It was pretty obvious considering the fact that House had kept himself isolated from the hospital and anything having to do with medicine ever since he got back a week ago despite the numerous attempts the team had made to contact the diagnostician over that period of time.

"Why?"

That was House's eyes took on a rather serene glare as he sat with this question for a moment while mulling it over in his mind. There were a number of ways to answer this question but currently the only thing that he could think of was…

"Over the past five decades, I have kept myself in a world surrounded by nothing but medical diagnosis and puzzles which were distractions from addiction and pain. (sigh) Now that I'm clean and on my way into the world of mobility I don't want those distractions anymore. I want to live."

"Doing what?"

House gestured over to the piano and a smile spread across his face as he released a sigh of relief and waited for Wilson to put the pieces of the puzzle together for himself. Thankfully, he didn't have to wait long for this to occur as a flicker of realization swept across the oncologist's face and he couldn't help but smile at the thought.

"Let me get this straight, your willing to give up a career as a brilliant diagnostician, who has become known for solving the cases that no one else can solve to play music professionally?"

"See, that's where your wrong Jimmy. I'm not giving up my career, I'm just kind of putting it on hold for awhile…"

"Are you _crazy_?"

Wilson regretted asking that question as soon as it left his lips and seeing the look on House's face as it reached his ears indicated that the older man hadn't appreciated the phrasing either. However, instead of bringing any more light to the situation then necessary, the crippled man sat up straight and decided to present himself in a stoic, adult fashion despite the strong urge being sent from his subconscious to punch Wilson In the throat.

"Thankfully no, after spending the last six months at the Philadelphia

giggling academy…besides, I'm only doing what you did after Amber died."

"What?"

"I'm trying to move on."

Wilson closed his eyes at this comment while the memories from the last time those words were uttered flashed through his mind only now, the shoe was on the other foot and Jimmy was the one who was made to feel as though he were being tossed a side like an old coat that no one wanted to wear anymore.

"Are you sure this is what you want?"

"What choice do I have? Its either that or go back to the hospital and be surrounded by reminders of what I can't change and that doesn't seem to appealing to me right now."

So, House was trying to forget. Forget What though? Wilson had a feeling this wasn't just about the break down. There was something else going on that his friend wasn't saying and he was doing a very good job of keeping it bottled up…which presented a problem.

"You can't run for ever House."

"I'm not running Jimmy, in fact, I can't run you know that…I told you why I'm…"

"Then reiterate it for me, because I honestly have no idea why your doing this."

"Yes, you do."

This being said, House got up from the couch and limped over to the kitchen to get himself something to drink while leaving Wilson alone to think for himself. When he came back minutes later, the Oncologist was still pondering about the riddle he had been given but House was getting bored with the quiet game.

"Any theories?"

"I have a few."

"This should be good"

Wilson rubbed the back of his neck in anticipation of the conversation at hand. It hadn't been easy thinking these things over in his head and he worried how House would react to such inquisitions. However, rather then let any more time pass between them Wilson decided to just bite the bullet and get this over with.

"Cuddy."

"This has nothing to do with her."

"Oh really? Do you think its just a coincidence that all of this happened after your delusions which lead you to no longer trust your rational mind? Face it House, your scared and your trying to escape the only way you know how…by quitting.

"Touché."

House couldn't deny it even if he tried. Wilson was right but what could he do? Where were the answers he so greatly desired?

"I just need some time away."

"Then take it, but stop lying to yourself…that's gotten you into enough trouble already."


	9. Chapter 9

After he got home from House's apartment, Wilson felt strangely liberated and calm. He realized that that was the first time during their friendship where he hadn't done anything to enable his friend into making a decision, hadn't directed him down a road which would have ultimately lead to nowhere. In truth, all Wilson had done was say his peace and walk out knowing that House could handle it and would get though this on his own.

James thought of all the times in the past when things could have gone differently between them if both he and Cuddy would have laid off and let House alone with his own problems instead of acting like House's parents. Wasn't that ironic? Just the thought of John made Wilson's skin crawl. True, he wasn't Greg's actual biological father but he was the only thing close to it that House had ever had.

Blythe wasn't so bad. She was the only positive relationship to have come out of his childhood but then how could she just ignore what was going on right in front of her face?

Suddenly, the sound of the phone brought the oncologist out of his thoughts with such a jolt that Wilson nearly fell off the couch and onto the floor.

_Hey Jimmy…you were right. (sigh) I've got to stop lying to myself. So, I've decided to do something about it. Wish me luck!….click_

As the message was left on the machine and silence filled the room once again, Wilson sighed to himself while pouring another glass of wine while laying back on the couch and sighing in relief.

"Good Luck House….I hope you know what your doing."

*************************************************************

The next day, House woke up with a smile on his face despite the pain signals being sent to him by the damaged right thigh muscle while slowly getting out of bed and limping over to the closet.

There was something about this particular morning that made him feel alive and House was not afraid to show it. For the first time since he'd been discharged from Mayfield House felt like he was in control with his life and from here on out everything would be fine. After he took a shower and got dressed the former diagnostician entered the living room and was about to enter the kitchen when he was stopped by the sight of a 1986 medical journal lying abandoned on the coffee table.

A sigh escaped his lips as House picked it up and started leafing through the pages while trying to ignore the ache in his leg that seemed to worsen with every minute the former diagnostician stood reading from the keep sake from careers past.

House would miss working at the hospital. He would miss getting his minions to do his bidding, the sight of Cuddy as she walked into work every morning with that professional yet sexy allure, lunches with Wilson where they would talk about the latest hospital gossip and steal each other's food but most of all House would miss the medicine.

_Why am I doing this? _

The answer came to him like it had all those times before in the form of an epiphany that hit him like a ton of bricks while closing the journal shut with a snap and limping into the kitchen.

_Doctor's orders._

An hour and a half later it was time to leave. However, as House was putting on his jacket a knock came upon the door that made all the hairs on his neck stand up while he peered through the peep hole to see who could be disturbing him on such a lovely day.

Seeing that it was Forman, the former diagnostician braced himself for what was to come while slowly opening the door which lead to the outside world and smirked to himself.

"Doctor Eric Foreman I presume, to what do I owe this pleasure?"


	10. Chapter 10

As Foreman drove from the hospital over to House's apartment a feeling of dread came over him which was a direct indication from his subconscious that this couldn't possibly go well. After all, no one at the hospital had even seen House for over six months, no one that is apart from Cuddy and Wilson but unfortunately, those two were being quite protective of their friend and would not say a word about where he was.

That was up until three days ago when Cuddy entered the conference room and made her presence known with these three little words.

"House is back."

Hearing this caused a number of different reactions. First, thirteen released a sigh of relief, a smile crept over Taub's lips and Foreman merely stared blankly for a moment before furrowing his brow and letting his curiosity be known.

"Can we see him?"

"You can try but I doubt he'll let you in."

This being said, Cuddy left the room as the team began to process the news they had just received. Normally, Foreman could have cared less about the personal matters of his colleagues but this was different, this was House. He wouldn't admit it to anyone but deep down Foreman had missed working with the diagnostician over these many months.

He felt foolish thinking about his resignation and how the only reason behind it was not wanting to become House when in actuality, just being able to learn from him and work with the man on a daily basis had made Foreman a better doctor.

So, after getting his coat and checking in on their latest patient the neurologist got in his car, put the key in the ignition and drove the two miles over to the apartment.

Moments later, Foreman pulled his car into the driveway and got out to look around at his surroundings. The place looked exactly the same from the outside and it appeared as thought no one had been there for sometime. However, not letting his assumptions get the better of him, Eric walked up the steps and knocked on the door while awaiting the presence of a man he had come to know and respect over time.

Moments later, the sound of the familiar step, thump of House's cane to the floor could be heard as the door opened slowly to reveal the diagnostician wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt with signature leather jacket covering his shoulders.

"Dr. Eric Foreman I presume, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Got a case."

Hearing this caused House to arch an eye brow and cross his arms over chest while looking skeptically towards his former employee who glared back patiently.

"Judging by the absence of a file in your hands and the thin line of sweat covering your brow I'd say your lying and even if your not…sorry, I can't help you."

This being said House limped passed Foreman and was nearly to his bike when he was stopped by this inquisition sent to him in the form of a question.

"Where are you going?"

This question sent chills up House's spine as he dropped his head to the ground for a moment before straightening himself up and turning back around to face the neurologist who was now standing right behind him.

"Jazz club, want to come with?"

"It's 2'o'clock in the afternoon."

"Oh, then we better hurry…"

This being said, House mounted his bike and started the engine while Foreman continued to stare dumbfounded as the moment of truth drew near.

"Last chance Foreman, are you coming or not?"

As tempted as he was to say no, the neurologist found himself highly curious and confused by House's actions and wanted to find the answers to all of the questions that were swimming around in his head.

"Why not?"

Nodding his head in agreement with this statement, House placed the helmet over his head and waited for Foreman to mount the bike as well but instead, the neurologist walked over to the driver's side of his car and got in which indicated to House that he would follow him to the club without a second thought.

Twenty minutes later, the two vehicles pulled into the parking lot of a small stone building with a sign which indicated that this was the jazz club House was talking about which was a place known as the Blue Finn.

Getting out of his car, Foreman walked over to House and with a nod the diagnostician limped through the main entrance of the building knowing far to well that Foreman would get the hint and follow him inside.

_What the hell am I doing here?_

_What the hell is he doing here?_

House mentally smacked himself for inviting Foreman to come along. Why couldn't he have just deflected the question of where he was going and drive off without a second thought to how it looked to the neurologist? The truth was that despite his better judgment, House had missed working with his team and the appearance of his senior fellow standing at the door had triggered something in him that couldn't be ignored.

"Greg!."

The sound of his name being called distracted House from any further conversation with his colleague for the time being as a tall man with dark hair walked over to them and greeted House with a firm hand shake and pat on the back.

"Greg, good to see you."

"You too Ray, so… this is the place?"

"Yeah, it took us three years but it's finally open."

Nodding his head at this comment, House smirked to himself while continuing to catch up with an old friend. Ray hadn't seen House for a couple of years but it was good to know that he was still alive and well despite what had happened.

"So, whose your friend?"

"(sigh) Dr. Eric Foreman, Ray James and vise versa."

As they shook hands, both men gave the other a friendly nod while exchanging pleasantries and sizing each other up.

"Nice to meet you Eric. Doctor huh? What's your specialty?"

"Neurology."

"Really? My brother's a neurologist. He's been working over at Boston Mercy for the last twelve years. Which is typical considering how much he loves messing with peoples heads."

This joke did not go over well with Foreman as he furrowed his brow temporarily while looking over at House. The diagnostician had been oddly quite during this exchange as he now stood staring off into space. Then, after a minute House's eyes snapped back into focus and were now peering over by the stage.

"Hey Ray, is that piano in tune?"

"She's all set up for you, Greg."

"I'll be right back."

This being said, House limped over to the stage while leaving Ray and Foreman alone to talk some more. As House began to play the beginning notes of a simple jazz scale, Ray sighed to himself and muttered….

"We're lucky to have him working here."


	11. Chapter 11

_We're lucky to have him working here._

Those words echoed through Foreman's mind as he tried to make sense of what he had just heard while staring blankly at Ray.

"What did you just say?"

"You mean you didn't know?"

No, I didn't."

Neither did anyone back at the hospital. Why the hell had House decided to do this? Give up Medicine? Just the thought if this made the neurologist's skin crawl.

Suddenly, the music that had been emanating from the stage ended and House got up from the piano and exited from stage right while heading over to the bar.

"Well, how was that?"

He seemed so vulnerable and open at this moment that Ray really didn't know what to say.

"You…you never sounded better."

"Thanks."

At this point, Foreman cleared his throat and looked down at his watch in a vein attempt to get away from the awkwardness of this situation.

"Yeah, well I should really get going. I've got a lot of important _doctor _stuff to do."

This being said, Foreman turned to leave but not without House sending him off with these few parting words.

"Good to see you Foreman. Tell the Scooby gang I said hello."

"Yeah, I'll do that. See you around House."

*************************************************************

Back at the hospital, the team were all gathered in the conference room waiting for Foreman to return with news, any news regarding House and where he's been for the last six months.

Thankfully, they didn't have to wait long because at that moment the neurologist burst through the door looking like he'd been sent through the ringer.

"How'd it go?"

"Oh, fine. I talked to House and I learned some very interesting things."

"Like what?"

"Well, for starters, he's giving up his career in medicine to become a jazz musician."

There was silence following this statement as the team tried to absorb what they'd just been told.

"I can't believe it."

"Neither can I."

Having a seat by the table, Foreman put a hand on either side of his face and sighed with disbelief.

When the shock wore off, a smirk spread across Taub's face as he glared across the table at Eric who was in no mood for levity.

"So…where's he playing?"

"A place called the Blue Finn, on the corner of 34th and Elm, why?"

"We should go see him perform."


	12. Chapter 12

Back at the "Blue Finn", House had a seat by the bar while Ray offered him a drink.

"No thanks."

Shrugging at this comment, Ray poured himself a drink while making himself comfortable next to House. He could tell there was something weighing heavily on his friend's mind but rather then push the subject, the older man tried a different approach.

"That guy Foreman, seems alright."

At this comment, House sighed while scratching the back of his head and absent mindedly placing a hand over his right knee with a squeeze.

"He was the neurologist and senior fellow on my team."

"The one you once referred to as mini me?"

"That's the one."

At this comment, Ray arched an eye brow while bringing his right thumb and fore finger up to his chin signifying the interest he had in this topic of discussion.

"Funny. From where I sit you two look nothing a like."

"(sigh) You'd be surprised."

Having said this, House got up from the bar stool and was about to leave when he was stopped by this question.

"See you tomorrow?"

House nodded in agreement before heading out into the parking lot.

As he drove home, the former diagnostician tried to focus on the road while his mind continued to drift back to a different time and a different place. Things would be different from now on, he had no doubt about that but how much would change? And in what capacity?

House was kidding himself if he thought being a jazz musician would give him the same high that medicine always had besides, for over thirty years, solving the coolest medical mysteries had been his thing.

_It's only temporary. _He told himself while pulling into the driveway, but there was a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach that suggested other wise.

_What if it isn't?_

This question made his head start to hurt as House took his time, taking off his helmet, dismounted from the bike and limped over to the three steps which lead into the apartment he had lived in for over fourteen years.


	13. Chapter 13

The following day, House didn't have to be at the club until six. Ray thought it would be a good idea for him to come in early to meet some of the other musicians who would playing and get to know some of the staff.

Seeing as how it was still early in the morning and he didn't have anything else to do before his set that night, House decided to play. Limping over to the piano, the newly ordained doctor of soul and jazz took his place beside the 88 keys and glided into a soft and voluptuous melody that seemed to go on for hours.

Before he knew it, it was already twelve in the afternoon which meant he still had six hours to kill before going to the club.

Unfortunately, House's damaged right thigh was angry with him after being cooped up underneath a piano bench for so long and was now screaming for relief.

Getting slowly to his feet, House sighed to himself while shaking his head.

"Damn."

There was no way he could perform like this and he knew there was only one thing to do. However, Ingrid his massage therapist wasn't picking up her phone which meant she was probably in the middle of a session and would call back later.

House didn't have time to wait, so reaching over for his cell phone which had been conveniently placed upon the piano, the diagnostician searched through his list of contacts and then, after having found the number he was looking for breathed in a sigh of relief and pressed send.

(Who do you think the mystery caller is? Stay tuned for more and as always thank you for enjoying and reviewing my work. Wicket forever.)


	14. Chapter 14

"I called you here to take away the pain not add insult to injury."

House had called the hospital to request the assistance of the staff massage therapist and Cuddy had decided to tag along. The dean of medicine was concerned for her friend's well being and wanted to see if he was alright. Fortunately, she didn't have to wait long to see that her instincts had been correct.

No sooner had they walked through the door when the were met by the sight of House standing by the piano squeezing his thigh in a vein attempt to ease the cramp away which had failed miserably.

"Two heads are better then one. Besides you obviously need my help."

"Oh really? Are you a masseuse too?"

"No, but I am a doctor and I can see your obviously in pain."

"Its nothing that a little rub down wouldn't fix."

This being said, House took two steps slowly forward while trying to make it over to the couch without the aid of his two apartment guests for the time being. However, this request for dignity had been denied as House tried for a third step and began to fall forward.

Thankfully, Cuddy was there in a split second as she broke his fall with her hands around his waist and pulled the crippled, stubborn man to his feet. House had never been keen on the idea of being saved by anyone but since she had already done it there was nothing he could do.

"Uh…thanks."

"Your welcome, now are you going to be a good little boy and let us help you to the couch?"

"Yes mommy."

This being said, Cuddy and Nurse Pierce took hold of House by the right and left arm as he took his time getting to the couch.

Upon reaching their destination, House wiggled out of the hold he had been in, took a moment to breath in a sigh of relief and rolled his eyes at the memory of what just transpired.

"Ok. Now that that moment of humiliation is behind us…" In the midst of this rant, House's damaged right thigh sent a wave of pain up his leg that nearly caused him to keel over.

"…Can someone _please_ give me some relief before I pass out?"

"I'm not giving you any drugs."

"Wouldn't take them even if you gave them to me, I'm clean remember?"

That's when Nurse Pierce had had enough and let it known by letting out an exasperated sigh while throwing her arms up in the air.

"Enough!"

"Oh, you've done it now cuddles…"

"Shut up House, I'll deal with you in a minute.(sigh) Dr. Cuddy with all do respect, I think it would be better if you left."

Cuddy couldn't believe what she was hearing. She was the dean of medicine she had the right to intervene when a patient needed help. Then again, Lisa reminded herself that they were not at the hospital and technically House wasn't a patient. He had only called her to see if Nurse Pierce was available and nothing more, she had no right to be here.

"Your right…I'll go."

This being said, the dean of medicine picked up her jacket and purse while leaving the apartment without meeting House's gaze or saying another word.

No sooner had she left when House turned to glare at the woman standing before him with a look of pure interest and curiosity.

"I love you."


	15. Chapter 15

"Why…did you go over there exactly?"

Cuddy had just finished telling Wilson about her intervention at House's apartment the night before and now James was trying to make sense of it.

"I was trying to help."

"By getting in the way? Yeah, that makes sense."

"I know. It was a stupid thing to do but if you could have heard the pain in his voice when he called."

Wilson nodded his head in understanding at this comment, House had called him on numerous occasions over the years, needing a ride, someone to drink with or anything else he could think of but that wasn't the case here. This time, House had called the hospital requesting the aid of a highly trained specialist in treating pain, nothing more, nothing less.

"Its not out job to enable him anymore Cuddy. (sigh) In fact, it never was."

"So, what now?"

At this question, Wilson sighed to himself while reaching over to hold Lisa's hand in his.

"Now, we change jobs and be what we've always been underneath it all."

"Which is?"

"His friends."

*************************************************************

Meanwhile, Nurse Pierce had just finished working on House's leg and was about to leave when she was stopped by….

"Thank you."

Nodding her head at this comment, Roberta walked over to the couch and smiled at her patient who had just opened his eyes after being in a massage induced coma for the past twenty minutes. There was an heir of peace to this man that was rarely seen.

"Feeling better?"

"Very. That was just what the doctor ordered."

"Good. "

Roberta was about to leave when something caught her attention as she walked passed the couch. House was still rubbing his thigh despite what he had just said about it feeling better.

Arching an eye brow at this comment, the nurse walked over and crossed her arms over chest while glaring at House with a look that could kill.

"What?"

"Were you lying to me?"

"No."

"Then what's up with that?"

House didn't even have to look down to know what was being discussed. However, instead of bringing any further attention to it the former diagnostician and resident pain in the ass removed his hand from his thigh and leaned back against the pillow while placing both hands behind his head.

"Its nothing. I'm feeling much better. You can leave now."

Kneeling down beside the couch, Roberta dropped the hostility she had been carrying in her voice and decided to try another approach.

"You know Dr. Cuddy was only trying to help."

"Yeah, she always does."

Like clock work, House's hand reached over to his damaged thigh and started massaging it slowly.

"You're her friend she cares about you."

"That's the problem. (sigh) People who get close to me get hurt."

Hearing himself say that, caused House to stop mid rub and tilt his head to the side while furrowing his brow.

_Why did I say that?_

"Interesting."

This being said, Roberta got up from the couch, grabbed her jacket and purse and headed for the door but not without House calling her back from where he lay on the couch.

"Interesting? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

A knowing smirk spread across Roberta's face at that point as she glared at the crippled man before her and provided him with these last few words of wisdom before walking out the door.

"You figure it out."


	16. Chapter 16

(Hi everyone! I know I haven't written anything in awhile but there have been a lot of things going on but anyway, here is the latest chapter. I hope you enjoy it and as always thanks for reading and reviewing my work. Wicket forever)

The weeks went slowly by as House grew comfortable within his new environment as a jazz musician playing in front of a room full of patrons every night. Yet, despite this overwhelming sense of control, which was a first for him the diagnostician longed to be back at the hospital. The adrenalin rush that hit him every time a new case came into the department was a feeling no bout of alcohol or narcotic could compare to.

Unfortunately, as much as he missed those days of power House knew that even if he did return nothing would be the same. Why? Because somewhere down the line, House decided he needed to make a change in his life and this was it. Music had taken the place of medicine both as his career and as his anti-drug. Or had it?

"Thank you."

Peering out into the audience, House breathed in a sigh an began to play the next song on his set list. Meanwhile, somewhere in the crowd, seated at a table in the back of the room were three people who had known and worked with the man on stage for quite sometime but never in this sense.

Foreman, Cameron and Chase couldn't believe what they were seeing. It was nice seeing their former boss in a way that very few had witnessed before but despite this, somehow, it just seemed wrong.

"He's good."

"I never knew he could play like that. Did you?"

Shrugging at this comment, Foreman continued to watch the performance while feeling guilty that they had come here in the first place. It was obvious that House had moved on from his life as a doctor but how would he react to seeing three of his former fellows here, in the place of his new occupation?

When the house lights came up at the end of the set after House had vacated the stage rather abruptly, Cameron and Chase remained seated by the table while Foreman threw on his coat and got up.

"We should go."

"Why?"

"Because if House sees us here…"

Before Foreman could continue this comment, he was stopped by the sound of a voice beckoning him from behind.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Doctors Foreman, Chase and Cameron or should I say Mr. and Mrs. Chase. What are you three doing here?"

It looked like House, same limp, same piercing blue eyes, same five o clock shadow but the tone of voice and the way he presented himself was unlike anything they had ever witnessed while working under him. It seemed as though time away from the hospital had done the diagnostician good and he had somehow become mellow.

"We came to see the show."

"And?"

At that moment, the group became silent as the three members of his senior diagnostics team exchanged a glance before erupting into an uproar of congratulatory statements and pats on the back.

"It was great."

"I never knew you could play like that."

"Wow."

After several moments of this, House waved them off and stepped back while collecting his bearings once again. He figured a few people from the hospital would show up sooner or later but he never expected this kind of a welcoming.

"Uh…thanks. I'm glad you liked it. (sigh) But that's not the real reason you're here."

"We told you why we…"

"Oh, I'm sure that's part of the reason but come on, do you actually expect me to believe there's no medical emergency, no patient's life hanging in the balance?"

At this question, the team exchanged a glance while continuing to stare blankly towards House who had hoped he was wrong in his assumptions.

Fortunately, Foreman was quick to pick up on his thought while crossing his arms over chest and shooting House a glare.

"No. There is no emergency"

"Okay."

"At least not medically…"

Turning on his heel, House limped over to the table and had a seat while mentally slapping himself for assuming there was a case. He had actually hoped there was a puzzle for him to crack, it had been so long and yet the tone in the neurologist's voice lead him to stop in mid thought and stare curiously over at Foreman.

"What's going on?"

*************************************************************

Moments later, House lead the way back stage down a long corridor into a dressing room complete with a couch, a side table, a mini fridge and a mirror surrounded by two framed pictures of John Henry Giles and Diana Krall hanging on either wall.

"Here we are. Home sweet home."

House retrieved a bottled water from the fridge before limping over to the couch while gesturing for his three guests to do the same. It wasn't very often they were together in such a laid back setting but now wasn't the time to get lost in that kind of thinking.

"Nice place you have here."

"Yeah, it almost makes me forget…"

"…now, down to business…what the _hell_ is going on?"

Foreman knew there was no point in delaying this any longer then necessary. So, rolling his eyes in defeat while dropping his head to the ground, the neurologist hoped to god that the following conversation would go well…but he had his doubts.

"Cuddy and Wilson were driving back to Princeton from a conference a couple of weeks ago when they got into an accident. Cuddy sustained a minor concussion and sprained her wrist but she should be fine in a few days unfortunately, Wilson wasn't so lucky…he's in a coma."


	17. Chapter 17

The room was silent after Foreman finished delivering the devastating news to House. The diagnostician hung his head and tried to calm his nerves before saying a word. When he had made the decision to leave the hospital and ultimately abandon the two people he cared about the most, House never thought anything like this would happen.

His blood ran cold at the thought of Wilson lying in a hospital bed with tubes connected to his body, completely cut off from the rest of the world and Cuddy in somewhat better shape but no worse off then Jimmy.

"You've got a hell of a bed side manner Foreman. Thanks for dropping by."

Getting up from the couch, the diagnostician limped over to the coat-rack and retrieved his jacket from one of its limbs before heading over to the door.

"Where are you going?"

Turning around to face his former fellows once more, House arched an eye brow while a saddened smirk covered his lips.

"To the hospital, where else?"

They hadn't expected House to react that way in fact, they hadn't expected to him to react at all. Foreman, Chase and Cameron had known this man long enough to know how he was _normally_ however, there was nothing about this situation that could be described as normal.

*************************************************************

Once he had pulled into his usual spot just outside the main entrance of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching hospital, House dismounted from the motorcycle and limped quickly through the doors, ignoring the confused looks being sent from the nursing staff.

Nurse Brenda, a tall auburn haired woman with eyes that could kill greeted House as he stood by the reception desk.

""Dr. House. I'm surprised to see you here."

"Yeah, yeah, you and all the rest of the staff (sigh) I heard about the accident."

All of the color drained from Brenda's face as she tried to compose herself while letting her confusion be known.

"How did you-?"

"A little birdie told me…what rooms are they in?"

"Dr. Cuddy is in room 2133 and Wilson is still in intensive care."

"Thanks."

Thankful to have achieved the information he needed, House left the nurses station and limped down the hall while having difficulty deciding which of his ailing friends to visit first.

Wasn't this ironic? After all these years of the dean of medicine and head of oncology acting as his _enabler_ now, the shoe was on the other foot. Now, House had to be help them…by being there.

(What do you think? I know it's a short chapter but I assure you this is leading up to something. Thank you all for reviewing and as always…more to come soon. Have a great day. Wicket forever.)


	18. Chapter 18

**If he had had a coin to flip it would have made this decision a lot easier to make. In truth, House knew that nothing could make this decision or situation any easier. The reality was, that both of his best friends were in the hospital after getting into a traumatic accident that no one could have seen coming and there was nothing to do now but wait and see what happens.**

**House had never been too keen on the wait and see approach but seeing as he wasn't technically an employee at this hospital nor, licensed as a doctor this was the best alternative and it was killing him from the inside out.**

**The diagnostician had every intention on visiting both Wilson and Cuddy individually in due time but seeing as Jimmy's room was the closest in proximity to where House was at this current moment, the decision seemed to have been made for him by fate.**

**Sliding the large glass door which lead into the oncologist's semi private room open with a jolt House was frozen in the entryway as his eyes rested upon the sight before him.**

"**Oh, God."**

**Wilson lay in a hospital bed with tubes sticking out of his body and a ventilator keeping his breathing regular.**

**Despite the damage his body had been through, Wilson's face still held the shadow of the handsome boyish face House had once mocked as being to caring and sincere for his own good.**

**Limping over to sit near his friend's bed side House tried to stop the guilt from welling up inside his heart. Seeing Wilson in this position, literally asleep to the world without so much as a hand to hold made House think back to Amber.**

**Both situations were similar because they both involved a crash. True, one was a bus and the other a car but in both situations, someone that House had cared about had been hurt to the point of no return and there was nothing he could do about it now.**

**At this point, during an uncharacteristically human moment, House sighed to himself while reaching over to give Wilson's hand a squeeze. **

"**Look, I know you probably can't hear me what with being unconscious and all but…"**

"…**(sigh) to hell with the pleasantries. Jimmy, what the hell are you doing here? I'm supposed to be the screw up remember? Not you. I know it wasn't your fault it was the damn stupid kid who had probably drunk himself into an early grave well before…(sigh) I can't blame this on him, I can't blame this on you or Cuddy not even myself…I just want to know **_**why**_** the hell this happened…because despite what you may think…I **_**do**_** care about our friendship Wilson probably more then you will ever know."**

**This being said, House got up from the chair, wiped the tears that had started to form while he was talking away from his eyes and left the room.**

**Once he had returned to the hallway, House took one last lingering look into Wilson's room and with a heavy heart limped away hopeful that his meeting with Cuddy would be smoother then this had been. **


End file.
